One Click Away From Heaven
by MochaCocaFan
Summary: Your own personal Jesus/Someone who cares/Reach out and touch faith...--Was it a mistake for Light to click on the link? Did it destroy his life, or create it? Did it save or damn?--


_**One Click Away From Heaven**_

**EbonyGoddess:** _so howd u get started_

**Hades:** _?_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ lyk whyd u surf_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ cuz u sed u dont normally_

**EbonyGoddess: **_u wer tis ttl hermit lyk nvr tlkng to anyone eva_

**Hades:** _same way as everybody else rite?_

**Hades:** _the mask broke  
_

* * *

Light Yagami sighed as he walked home.

Normally he'd be putting on that fucking fake smile he hated so damn much by now. Normally he'd be cheerily upright, studiously serious, top-grade straight-A perfect golden son by now.

Not today.

Today, something had changed.

Something had broke.

Light was so sick of putting on that mask every day, sick of never being able to get all the hate and anger and rage and sadness out, sick of not even knowing what he was feeling. Sick of knowing the answers too every single fucking question on his homework, of having no-one willing to talk to the reclusive genius.

Sick of _being_.

He managed to stretch his lips in a fake smile that felt disgusting as he opened the door to his house (not a home, never a home, didn't feel like home) and stepped inside. He longed for something. He didn't know what and that irritated him like vicious poison ivy.

The steps were silent as he forced himself _not_ to storm upwards like an enraged Siberian tiger and into his room, which incidentally didn't feel like his. It added to the ugly swollen pool of unwantedness, of loneliness, of resentment and righteous unbelonging. It wasn't his really, and it never would be.

Sighing heavily once more, Light Yagami made one the most monumental decision of his lifetime. He took out his laptop and switched it on.

After his homepage (an extremely garish pop site that he was too lazy to change with a horrifying color scheme that consisted of neon pink, hot pink, shocking pink, baby-girl pink and cotton-candy pink with lots of lemonade smileys) had loaded, he blinked at a small, rather modest advertisement. It read something along the lines of a chatroom for 'Alex's, whatever the hell they were. He would have skimmed over such an ad; he wasn't an 'Alex', he didn't care much for chatrooms (or people in general, for that matter) but something about this tiny little bit of pixels with a dark red background and cury English cursive in mint green caught his eye.

Something was, frankly, different about it.

So he clicked.

He saved his life.

* * *

**EbonyGoddess:** _welcum 2 da Alex Bar! its vry privat here, u might wanna take off da mask_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ wer all sufferin hr 2_

**Hades:**_ so u mean everyones lyk me 2_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ yup glad ur getin it_

**Hades:**_ i didnt no anyone else like this_

**Hades:**_ i thought i was the only one_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ not anymore  
_

* * *

_Alexithymia._

He stared at the word over and over again.

_Alexithymia._

_Alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia_

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_alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia_

_alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia__alexithymia..._

It writhed and swirled and spun and twisting, forever moving and blurring his vision with the sequence of colors haphazardly thrown together.

(red-green-orange-purple-gray-red-gold-yellow-brown-yellow-red)

_The inability to feel feelings, recognize feelings, describe feelings, differentiate between feelings, deal with feelings, and separate feelings._

This was unbelievable.

_Commonly found in two forms, one being primary alexithymia and another being secondary alexithymia._

People had studied.

Were studying it.

People _cared._

_Primary alexithymia is genetic and inborn. It can be altered with practice and time._

Holy shit.

_Secondary alexithymia, on the other hand, is created by stress, neglect, and emotional trauma. Once a trauma is past, alexithymia eventually vanishes with self-examination and healthy relationships. It is not permanent._

He, Light Yagami, had died and gone to heaven.

* * *

**Hades: **_how many ppl r her?_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ lots_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ lyk mayb 2000_

**Hades:**_ O.O_

**Hades:**_ theres 1000s of ppl out ther lyk me and u_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ 1000000s actualE_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ dis is jus a sml bit of all Alexs_

* * *

Feeling suddenly shaky and light-headed from his discovery, Light stood up to quickly go to the bathroom and grab a water bottle and a bag of consomme-flavored chips, his favorite, before returning to the glowing screen. Dizziness swept over him in waves as incessent, incredibly indescribable relief welled up like a river to a dam and overflowed.

There was a _name_ for it.

There was an _explaination._

There was a _gene_ that caused it.

There was even a _chatroom_ for people with this.

He wasn't abnormal.

He wasn't crazy.

He wasn't dropped on the head.

He was just cursed with some irritating disease that wasn't even _permenant!_

If Light had access to champagne, he would have been chugging it by the gallon.

Swallowing a mouthful of crisp, salty chips crushed between perfect teeth, Light clicked on the soft violet link that read 'Join Up'.

* * *

**Hades:**_ smthng weird happnd last night_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ what_

**Hades:**_ i saw dis weird dude on th street_

**Hades:**_ he was all hunched over_

**Hades:**_ he had gigantic bags under his eyes_

**Hades:**_ and his clothes were all rumpled_

**Hades:**_ and worst of all, he wasnt wearing any shoes!_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ ..._

* * *

'Enter Username'.

Hmm. What to put. Something dark, alluring and oddly fitting popped into his head out of nowhere, as if the thought was just a tumbleweed floating across the empty, deserted expanse of his psyche.

_Hades._

Click click click click click.

'Enter Password'.

_Password_. Whoops, can't put that it, too conspicuous.

Click click click click click click click click.

'Begin!'

Click.

And heaven opened the gates.

* * *

**Hades:** _EG i just wanna say thanx_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ wut 4?_

**Hades: **_everything_

**EbonyGoddess:**_ but i didnt do anything_

**Hades:**_ not true_

**Hades:**_ you saved my life_

* * *

And so, after a few clicks and a few taps, a three-hour newbie parade, an initiation into the most insane and fascinating soap opera of all time, 678 hours of Prime Time TV, many tears and screams, six bottles of whore-red nail polish, four burned Q-tips, the inside of a microwave, three stomach pumpings, eighty-five anime clip shows that made him shriek with laughter, two eyeliner pencils and one pro-wrestling national championships, the scoreboard read something like this:

Losses: Some time at the hospital, lots of self-control, restraint, three grade points, a boringly upstanding reputation as a serious college-bound student

Wins: Happiness, friendship, laughter, fun, and a personal Jesus.


End file.
